


i can do this

by kinneyb



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-18 02:39:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18111563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinneyb/pseuds/kinneyb
Summary: It's their anniversary. Eliot has no fucking clue what to do.





	i can do this

**Author's Note:**

> eliot is such a lil bean he just wants to make quentin happy  
> also this was just an excuse to see how many times i could make el call q babe
> 
> ★ please follow me on twitter @ queermight & check out my pinned tweet! ★

Eliot had never had a real relationship before. He had tried a couple of times, of course, but they'd all ended before things could get too far. So when Margo made an offhanded comment about "hey, isn't your anniversary coming up?", he might've freaked... just a little bit.

"I'm supposed to, like, get him something, right?"

Margo stared at him. "I don't know," she replied with a hint of amusement. "Do you _want_ to get him something?"

"Now is not the time," Eliot whined. "I've never celebrated an anniversary with someone before."

Margo nodded curtly. "Right, right, cause of all the things we do and deal with, this is what's really daunting." Eliot looked at her, all pout-y and big eyes. "I'm kidding," she continued after a moment, placing her drink on the table. "I'm happy for you, El, you know that." Walking over, she hugged him. 

"Thanks," he replied quietly. He hugged her back. "So you're going to help me, right?"

Margo pulled away, lifting both eyebrows. "Oh fuck no," she replied with a laugh. "I'm not being the reason your relationship is ruined."

Turning, she grabbed her drink and started up the stairs.

Eliot scrambled after her. "You're kidding, right?" he yelled up the stairs. No answer.

Fuck, he was screwed. And not in the good way.

/

Eliot stared at Quentin. He was sitting in the chair in Eliot's (their?) room, reading a book. He was obviously comfortable, leaned back with his legs drawn up, the book balancing on his knees. He looked so... different like this.

So relaxed, happy, content. Eliot smiled, big and wide. He was so fucking whipped.

"Staring is impolite."

Eliot blinked. Quentin was staring at him, eyes sparkling with amusement. 

"Sorry," he replied sheepishly. He shifted around on the bed, sliding to the edge. "Come here?" he asked, reaching his arms out.

Quentin pursed his lips. "I don't know," he sighed dramatically, tapping the book. "I'm getting to the good part."

"Please, babe," Eliot wiggled his fingers. "Just for a second."

Quentin grinned. He moved the book off his legs and stood up. Walking over, he stopped right in front of Eliot. "Did you need something?" he asked teasingly, reaching up to rest a hand on Eliot's neck. "Or did you just miss my addictive touch?"

"Oh, always," Eliot replied easily, putting his hands on the other man's hips to pull him even closer. "But actually I had a question."

Quentin actually seemed surprised by that. He smiled, playing with the curly ends of Eliot's hair. "Okay," he said. "What is it?"

"Uh," Eliot cleared his throat. "Do you know what next Thursday is?"

Quentin squinted his eyes, pursed his lips. Then, he smiled sheepishly. "Should I?"

"No, no," Eliot laughed a little, squeezing Quentin's hips in that way he loved so much. "It's nothing," he assured him. 

Quentin suddenly got a serious look on his face. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Eliot breathed. He flopped back on the bed, pulling Quentin on top of him.

/

"He doesn't even know it's our anniversary next week," Eliot said. He wasn't upset, truly, but that raised a new question. "So should I still do something for him?"

Margo gave him a look. He knew that look. "Of course," she said. "Surprise him."

"Okay," Eliot stared at the ceiling. He squinted. "But how?"

Margo leaned back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest. "If I tell you," she said, wagging a finger, "it won't be coming from you heart."

"Ew," Eliot laughed, tossing a pillow at her. "Bambi would never say something so cheesy - where is Margo and what have you done with her?"

Smiling, she picked up the pillow and smacked him right in the face.

/

Eliot wanted to do something Quentin would never forget, but he just wasn't good at this romantic stuff. After a couple nights of thinking, he eventually decided on a gift. 

/

"Good morning," Eliot gently ran his fingers down the side of Quentin's face, who blinked up at him tiredly. "It's Thursday."

Yawning, Quentin sat up and rubbed at his eyes. "Right." Then, he tilted his head, all curious. It was so fucking adorable Eliot had to will his boner away - not right now, his mind supplied helpfully. "Why... does that matter again?"

"I know you apparently don't remember," Eliot began, "and that's totally fine," he leaned forward to kiss the corner of Quentin's mouth, "truly, but I wanted to do something for you anyway."

Quentin blinked a few times. Once, twice. "Oh my God," he whispered. "It's our - "

Eliot kissed him again. "It's okay," he said, pulling away. "Seriously. We have a lot on our plate to be worried about remembering this kind of stuff."

"Are you sure?" Quentin frowned. "I mean - "

"It's fine, babe," Eliot rolled his eyes. "So just shut up, would you?"

Quentin relaxed visibly. He smiled a little. 

"So I thought long and hard about what I should get you," Eliot cleared his throat. He scooted forward. "But the truth is I'm an idiot and this is probably going to be disappointing as fuck." Slowly, he pulled his right hand out from his behind his back. He swallowed the nervous lump in his throat. "Here."

Quentin stared at the tiny box. Finally, he took it. "You really didn't have to, El."

"I know," Eliot replied. "But I came up with this idea and suddenly I realized... I loved it, too."

Quentin nodded mutely, and opened the tiny box. Two rings, silver and gold, stared back at him. He bit his lip. "You are so cliche," Quentin muttered, but he was grinning like a fool. He removed the gold ring and was surprised to see Eliot engraved inside in a beautiful cursive font. He audibly swallowed. "Eliot."

"I know it's, like, so cliche," Eliot reached over and took out the silver ring. He showed Quentin the writing inside it; his own name. "I just thought it was... nice. To think we always had this, like, piece of each other with us."

Quentin stared at the ring. 

"It's a stupid gift..." Eliot muttered. "Fuck, I knew - "

Suddenly, Eliot was interrupted by the familiar press of Quentin's lips on his. When he pulled away, Quentin was grinning and his eyes were watery and Eliot was positive he'd never been more in love. "Thank you," he said. 

"You're welcome, babe," Eliot replied. He gently took the ring from Quentin. "Let me."

Gently, he lifted Quentin's hand and slid the ring on his right hand - it was a perfect fix with some help from magic. Quentin, still grinning, did the same to Eliot. 

"Have I told you recently how much I adore you?" Eliot asked. 

Quentin kept playing with his new ring even as he looked up. "No," he whispered, "but you don't need to." Because he knew. Each day, he knew just how much Eliot loved him; words were nice, but never needed between them.

"True," Eliot leaned forward and began to kiss Quentin's face all over before proceeding to his neck, "but I should anyway."


End file.
